Falling
by sadisticscribbles
Summary: "Find me. Find me, hold me, and take me away from here." Marius and Enjolras struggle to maintain their love when society threatens to tear them apart. Alternate ending to My Rebellion. Rated M for language, intense scenes, violence, and more racy slash!
1. Gunfire

**A/N: Okay, so I know a lot of you were really upset with the ending of My Rebellion, so here is an alternate ending for you! I assure you, this is not it, there is WAY more to come!**

* * *

If yesterday had been a battle, today was a circle of Hell. Bullets flew

in every direction. This time, casualties were unavoidable. Out of the corner of his eye, Enjolras saw Courferyac fall, bleeding from his throat.

Swallowing bile, he ducked down, reloading his pistol. Another scream made him look up. Jehan this time. Enjolras felt like vomiting.

He stood yet again, cocking the pistol, when he stumbled back, a bullet buried in his right shoulder.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Combeferre was pulling him out

of the line of fire.

"What are you doing?!"

"Coat off. I'm getting the bullet out."

"Why-" Enjolras shrugged out of the coat.

"Because they need to see you alive!"

Enjolras didn't bother arguing. The pain in his shoulder was too intense.

"Quickly!"

Combeferre thrust a bottle of Merlot at him.

"Drink. Three swigs." As Enjolras knocked the bottle back, Combeferre all

but ripped off the sleeve of Enjolras's shirt, seizing a penknife,

pressing the point against the wound.

"Brace yourself. This will hurt like hell."

Enjolras stared at the blade as it slid into the bullet wound, probing for

the bullet. Then the knife struck muscle.

Enjolras looked away quickly, gagging. He hated blood.

"Oh God!"

"Almost there- there we are!"

The bloody bullet rolled across the cobbles and Combeferre tore a strip

off his shirt, wrapping it around the wound.

"Now get back up there!"

Enjolras seized his pistol, stumbling back to the barricade. His shoulder

was slowing him down- and it had to be his right shoulder, hadn't it? Cursing, he switched hands. Better be at the front of the line. Didn't want to shoot any on his own side.

There weren't many of them left now. Feuilly, Combeferre-there came a scream from behind him and Enjolras's stomach clenched-and Marius, thank God. And Grantaire, who was sitting in the wineshop, undoubtedly stone drunk, and their unknown ally, who'd killed Javert.

Two minutes later, Enjolras felt his body give out. His shoulder hurt too much, and he could feel blood oozing through the bandage. He landed hard on Combeferre's corpse. Gore stained the back of his shirt. Fighting the urge to vomit, Enjolras pulled himself up, just as another body fell from the barricade.

"No! Marius!"

Enjolras half-ran, half-fell towards Marius.

"No, no, oh God!"

He rolled the body over, feeling relief and terror wash over him in the same moment. He was alive, but wounded.

"Enj- Enjolras..."

The blond threaded his fingers through Marius'.

"I'm here. Right here. Where are you hurt?"

"Leg." He grimaced.

Another scream from the barricade. A tear slid through the dust and blood that covered Enjolras's face as he scrabbled for the knife that Combeferre had used. He staggered back to Marius, knife in hand - their ally, the one who hadn't given his name, was dragging Marius back. Marius, losing blood rapidly, was in no condition to fight him.

"No!"

The man looked up as Enjolras all but ran towards him.

"No. I'll take him. You run."

"But-"

"Don't argue with me!" Enjolras shrieked. The ally sighed in defeat, awkwardly handing Marius over to Enjolras.

"Enjol..."

Enjolras shifted Marius's barely-conscious body onto his good shoulder.

"Hang on to me."

The march of the National Guard was coming closer. Another minute, and they'd be over the barricade. They needed to get out.

The wineshop. It was closest and he had to get Marius to safety.

He forced the door open, shoulder howling in protest.

Sure enough, Grantaire was slumped at the bar counter, a bottle before him.

Enjolras gave him a long look, then continued up the stairs with Marius.

They hurried across the room, Enjolras now all but carrying Marius.

There was a crash from below. They were inside.

"Enjolras..."

The blond put a finger to Marius's lips.

"Shh."

"Dying..."

"Don't you dare-"

"...I'm glad it'll be with you..."

Enjolras held him tighter, planting a kiss on his forehead.

"We're not dying. Not here."

The door flew open, and three men dressed in the colors of the National Guard rushed into the room, stopping dead, cocking their muskets.

Marius closed his eyes.

"Haven't you hurt us enough?" Enjolras asked. "Look at us, we're dying already."

The soldiers glanced at each other.

"It's like shooting a flower..." One murmured.

"We'll do whatever you want, just don't kill us!" A few more tears and he'd have them... oh, there were advantages to being born with the face of an angel...

There was an echoed explosion as all three guns shot at once.


	2. Running

Enjolras barely had enough time to push Marius to the floor as they fired. As it was, he just caught the graze of the first bullet on his cheek.

With a scream of agony, he pulled Marius to his feet, running for the door. Another round of bullets landed just behind them.

His shoulder was really starting to hurt.

Downstairs, he didn't dare look at Grantaire. He knew he was dead.

Down the street now, Marius clinging to him as the soldiers followed them outside.

Several more corners and the footsteps faded away. Marius finally collapsed, Enjolras too weak to catch him as he fell.

He moaned as he sat down, shoulder throbbing horribly. A rat ran by his boot. Of course. They were in the slums now.

"Enjolras..." A hand found his in the fading light.

"Shh."

Fear was eating away at Enjolras. Fear of discovery, being killed-dying from their injuries. Thank God they'd lost the soldiers.

The blond glanced back at Marius.

"We never took out your bullet, did we?"

Marius shook his head. Enjolras leaned over, stroking his cheek apologetically.

"We need to get that out of you."

He moaned quietly as Enjolras took Combeferre's knife out of his belt, pulling Marius into his lap.

"I'm sorry." He whispered in his ear, and began cutting at the fabric around the wound. Marius pulled away every time the knife came near his skin.

"Shh..." Enjolras pressed his lips to his forehead. "I'm really sorry." He laid the point of the blade against Marius' skin. "Just hold on to me..."

The knife slid in, Marius seizing hold of Enjolras' collar.

"Oh God!"

"I know, I know it hurts!"

"Get it out!"

Enjolras stroked his lover's hair with his free hand.

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

He could the hard pressure of the bullet against the knife. He glanced at the wound, feeling his mouth grow salty at the blood covering his hand, the knife, trickling over Marius's flesh.

"Good God..." He turned away, feeling bile rise in his throat.

Marius was beating on his shoulder now, screaming into Enjolras's chest.

"Stop it, just stop!"

"I've nearly got it..."

Tears were soaking into Enjolras' shirt.

"Yes!" The bullet landed on the ground, Enjolras hurling it into the street.

Marius clung to him, shaking, sobbing. Enjolras ripped off a portion of his shirt, as he'd seen Combeferre do and, steeling himself, forced his eyes on the gun-wound.

If anything, it looked worse than before. Blood seeped steadily from it, the actual place where the bullet had entered was blue with bruises.

Struggling against a mouthful of bile, Enjolras wrapped the torn linen around Marius's leg. Once he'd tied the final knot, he turned away, stomach heaving as he retched.

His lips were tanged with salt. Enjolras wiped at them with trembling fingers.

Marius lay on the cobbles, still shaking, tears streaming from his eyes. Enjolras touched his hand gently. It stuck slightly against the flesh, the blood covering his hands drying uncomfortably.

"You're pale..." Enjolras whispered hoarsely.

Marius bit his lip.

"Probably... not as pale as you are..."

Enjolras lay beside Marius, cursing the hardness of the cobbles.

"I'm sorry that I... I just am, all right?"

Marius touched his hand.

"S'alright. Just... it hurt."

Enjolras met his gaze. Sighed.

"I know."

* * *

Five hours later, Enjolras' eyes snapped open. They needed to move. Disappear.

"Marius." He gently shook the boy sleeping beside him. "Marius, we have to move!"

He looked up at the corner of the alley. He could have sworn he'd heard footsteps, marching in formation-National Guard.

"Marius, wake up!"

Marius opened his eyes.

"What is it!"

"Get up! We need to move!"

Enjolras pulled Marius up with his good arm, letting him lean on his shoulder.

"Quickly, quickly!"

Marius was still half-asleep, head jerking out of sleep as they limped down the alley.

Now they could hear hoofbeats clacking on the cobbles.

"They've got horses!" Enjolras said, and pulled Marius sharply around a corner.

"Just a bit farther..."

They finally fell against the wall of a house. The hoofbeats were gone.

"How's your leg?" Enjolras whispered.

Marius bit his lip.

"Worse."

"Sit down." Enjolras gently pushed him to the ground. "Take your weight off it."

Marius nodded miserably.

"What about your shoulder?" He asked.

"It's not much better."

Enjolras put his arm around Marius, letting him rest his head against his good shoulder.

"I'm starving..."

Marius nodded in agreement.

"My leg stings."

Enjolras gently brushed his fingers over the bandaged wound. Marius hissed, pulling away.

"Don't touch it, that only makes it worse."

"All right. I'm just taking the bandage off. I'll be as gentle as I can. I promise."

Marius hesitated, then nodded, biting his lips to keep from crying out as Enjolras undid the bandage.

There was silence. Then-

"Oh Marius..."

"What is it?" His voice was shaking.

"Your leg..."

Several thin, pink lines stretched away from the bullet wound. Dried, blackened blood was clotted around the edges of the lesion, which was swollen and pink.

"I-I think it's infected."

Marius buried his face in his hands, shivering.

"This is just what we need."

Enjolras touched Marius's shoulder.

"Just... just stay calm." Enjolras's hand brushed his cheek. It felt warm... too warm.

"Marius?" He asked, trying not to alarm him. "How do you feel?"

"I... I don't... cold..."

Enjolras put his arms around him, trying to ignore the screaming pain in his shoulder, lips caressing the skin of Marius' neck.

"Just stay warm."

Marius nodded miserably, wrapping his arms around Enjolras.

"Try to rest."

"Wake me up if there's any..." Marius was asleep before he could finish the sentence.

* * *

Once again, Enjolras woke with a start, then relaxed. No footsteps this time.

_Was that even real?_ He wondered.

He glanced at Marius.

The boy was still sleeping, cheeks flushed, breathing raspy.

Enjolras swallowed hard. He needed to get Marius to safety. He clearly wasn't well. But where could they go, when they were fugitives of the law?

Enjolras laid a hand on Marius's forehead. Warmer than before.

_Damn, damn, damn.._.

"Just stay with me, Marius." He whispered. "Just hold on."

Marius opened his eyes, squinting in the morning sun.

"'pollo?"

"How do you feel?" Enjolras asked.

"Hot... really hot..."

The blond went immediately to the buttons of Marius's shirt, undoing the first four. He laid a hand on the side of Marius's cheek.

"Marius, there's no point in pretending you're not in danger. I need to get you to safety. We can't go back to the University, it'll be the first place they go. Can you think of anywhere, any place we could safely get you under the care of a doctor?"

"And you." Marius added. "Your shoulder."

Enjolras sighed.

"I'm trying to forget about it." He shook himself. "Where can I take you?"

"I-" Marius closed his eyes, clutching his head. "I don't..."

"Come on, think, _think!_"

"Enjolras!"

Enjolras sat back on his heels, burying his head in hands.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"I..." Marius sighed. "There is one place... but... you won't want to go there."

Enjolras raised his head.

"Will you be safe there?"

"I think so... but-"

"What is it?"

"Cosette's house." Marius closed his eyes to avoid Enjolras's expression. "Her father may allow us to stay."

The blond looked away.

"I can't say I'm delighted." He said quietly. "But it maybe the only choice we have."

He stood, pulling Marius up with a wince.

"You'll have to tell me where to go."

Marius nodded, Enjolras noting the exhaustion in his eyes.

"Tell me when you need to rest."

* * *

Half a day later, they reached the Rue Plumet. Enjolras turned to Marius.

"This is the place?"

Marius nodded.

"Yes. We'll need to go through the... gates, though. I only hope... someone will... see us..."

Enjolras glanced at Marius as his eyes slid shut.

"No. No, no!" At a loss of what else to do, he slapped at Marius' face. "Don't do this to me, Marius! Don't you dare!"

Enjolras all but dragged Marius to the gate, bringing his free hand down on the wrought iron. The impact played merry hell with his shoulder.

"Help us, please!" Gritting his teeth, he struck the gate again. "For the love of God, help us!" Once more, as he screamed. "Marius is sick!"

The door opened, a man hurrying out of the house. Close on his heels was a pretty blonde girl.

The man fumbled with some keys, as Enjolras struggled to keep Marius in his arms. His skin was slick with sweat.

Finally the gate opened and Enjolras stumbled inside, iron crashing back together behind him.

A tear slid off his jaw. He hadn't realized he'd been weeping.

"Let me help you." The man had come up beside him.

"No." Enjolras jerked away sharply. "Nobody touches him."

"I won't hurt him. I promise."

The blonde girl joined the man, staring at Marius, crumpled in Enjolras's arms.

"Oh my God..." She looked horrified.

"Go back inside, Cosette." The man-probably her father-told her. "Make sure two of the bedrooms can used."

She nodded vacantly, and started back into the house.

"Just let me help you." He said to Enjolras. "I promise you, I don't mean any harm."

Enjolras shook his head.

"Don't make me let go. Not after all we've been through."

The man hesitated, then nodded.

"Go inside. I'll send for a physician."

"You can put him on the chaise, for now." The girl said. Enjolras gently laid him on the couch, one hand resting on his shoulder.

"I'll get some water, some rags for when the doctor arrives..." She noticed the bullet wound in Enjolras's shoulder. "I'm afraid I don't know what to do about that, you'll have to wait until a doctor can come..."

"It's fine." He murmured. "I can wait." In reality, his injury was now distressingly itchy, it was all he could do not to lose control and scratch his skin raw.

A moment later, the girl's father entered.

"A doctor's on his way." He said. Enjolras looked up from Marius, scrutinizing the man.

"You seem familiar." He murmured. "Who are you?"

"Later." The man said firmly. "You need to rest."

Enjolras could only nod, his eyelids could have been lead.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the door opened again and Enjolras was jolted awake. It took him a moment to remember where he was, dozing on the edge of a embroidered chaise longue, Marius lying beside him, unconscious.

"They're right here."

Their host led another man-the doctor-into the parlor. The man's eyes widened.

"Revolutionaries?"

Enjolras flashed him a glance. It said-don't condescend to us. You've never been shot like rats in a barrel.

"Right." The doctor, recovering masterfully, turned to their host. "If you would be so kind...?"

The man nodded, scooping Marius into his arms. Enjolras scrambled to his feet.

"What-where are you-"

The doctor forced him back down.

"We're taking him upstairs. My assistant will take care of you."

"But-"

"Don't argue. Just sit, and try to relax. We're not trying to hurt your friend."

Sighing, Enjolras complied as a dark-haired man came forward, bag in hand.

"Monsieur, I will have to clean the wound first." He said. "I'm afraid this will sting a bit."

He took out a bottle full of amber liquid as well as a rag. He glanced at Enjolras, who waved him on.

"Go ahead. I had a bullet pulled out almost two days ago. I'm no stranger to pain."

"All right." The assistant physician poured a healthy measure of the liquid-brandy, by the smell-onto the rag, gently dabbing it into the wound on his shoulder.

Enjolras hissed as the alcohol burned his shoulder.

"Well, seeing as the bullet was already removed, all I really need to do is bandage it."

The dry, white line unfortunately did not do anything for the searing pain from the brandy.

The assistant left him on the couch and went upstairs to Marius.

Enjolras gritted his teeth against the pain.

_God, I hope he lives._

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the doctor came back downstairs. Enjolras turned in anticipation.

"Is he all right? Will he live?"

The doctor bit his lip.

"He will... but I'll need to take the leg off. The infection is too far set. I can save him, but he'll lose the leg. I'm just coming down for some more surgical tools."

Enjolras stared at him, uncomprehending.

"You- you have to-" He swallowed hard and realization dawned. "No."

"Now, I understand it's a lot to take in, but-"

"No!"

"At this stage, it's either him, or the leg. I can't save both."

"_No!"_ Enjolras insisted.

"If you honestly want your friend to live, you have to be prepared to sacrifice a leg." The doctor took the final bag. "I understand your feelings. But it's the only chance your friend has."

_You'll take my lover's leg off. You'll cut my lover's leg away._

There was silence.

"He-he won't feel any pain?" Enjolras finally croaked.

"None at all."

Enjolras stared at the doctor suspiciously.

"And you're not telling me that to make me feel better."

The doctor sighed.

"If he feels anything, it will be a slight pressure on his leg. That's all."

Enjolras leaned back on the chaise, closing his eyes.

"Do it. God help me, do it."


	3. Tears

**A/N: I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.**

* * *

No matter how often the doctor reiterated Marius's condition, Enjolras still wasn't prepared for what he saw when he entered the bedroom.

Marius looked like a shadow, trapped by the sheets and coverlets that had been laid over him. The pillow was damp with his sweat, which plastered his hair back in thin, wet tendrils. He seemed to be sleeping. There were several clinks as the doctor and his assistant took out several knives of varying length, laying them on the bedside table. _Knives, oh God, this isn't just a nightmare..._

Enjolras grabbed the side of the bed for support. The doctor put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him into a chair by the bed.

"Easy lad, easy..."

Marius stirred, eyes fluttering open.

"En-Enjolras?"

Enjolras swallowed hard.

"Marius..."

"What's happening...?"

Enjolras glanced at the doctor.

"We're-" His voice broke and he looked down at his knees.

The doctor put a comforting hand on Marius' shoulder.

"We have to amputate your leg." He said. "I'm afraid at this stage, saving it would be an impossibility."

Marius stared at him with steadily mounting terror.

"You're...!"

The physician's eyes flicked towards his assistant.

"Sauveterre."

Sauveterre made his way quickly around the bed, seizing hold of Marius's left arm. He glanced at Enjolras.

"Could you...?"

Marius, struggling wildly now, stared beseechingly at Enjolras, who had no choice but to take the other arm.

"Enjolras? What are you-why are you-help-"

The blond leaned over until his mouth was at Marius's ear, feeling his eyes brim over.

"_I'm sorry._"

The doctor came over, holding a decanter of brandy.

"Drink it. You'll feel better." He gave Marius four glasses, as Enjolras stroked his arm, trying to comfort him.

Someone held a piece of wood above his lips.

"Bite down. Hard as you need to." He turned to the doctor. "Is the tourniquet on?"

Enjolras felt the first stab of nausea as the doctor picked up the first knife, nodding. _It's starting_...

Marius pullled away from the blade, eyes wide with terror. The doctor placed a firm hand on Marius's ankle, holding him still.

The knife bit into his flesh.

All words of consolation flew from Enjolras' mind as blood spilled onto the sheets. A strangled scream brought him back to earth. _Marius._

"Shh, it's-it's..." He forced his eyes to stay on Marius-Marius, handsome, _beautiful_ Marius-his tears were falling onto the pillow, mingling with sweat.

There was silence suddenly, broken only by Marius' sobs and moans of pain. Enjolras looked up. It was over so soon? And then the doctor turned back to the bed, this time with an even larger knife-Enjolras risked a look at the leg. It was covered in blood, a horrifying cut made halfway through it. He turned away immediately, feeling nausea sweep through him.

And then it started again. Marius was splayed against the pillows, staring in horror at the knife that dragged through him.

"Shh..." Enjolras trailed his free hand down his lover's cheek, ignoring the others in the room, trying to ignore the screams. Marius howled through the wood in his mouth.

And then the doctor put down his knife.

"We're done."

Enjolras breathed out, burying his face in his hands. His entire body was shaking. He could still catch parts of the doctor's conversation with Sauveterre as they tended to what remained of Marius's leg.

"... go on and take it... I can wash the knives later." _It. _He meant the leg, Enjolras realized.

Sauveterre glanced at Enjolras.

"Are you feeling all right?"

Enjolras swallowed.

"I... need to step out for a moment..." He stood, leaning on the wall for support as he made his way out.

Enjolras leaned against the door, attempting to regain his bearings.

_You've seen much worse than this in the streets. What's the matter with you? _

_But it's not the same with him. I know him. I love him. _

Sauveterre glanced at Enjolras.

"Are you feeling all right?"

Enjolras swallowed.

"I... need to step out for a moment..." He stood, leaning on the wall for support as he made his way out.

Enjolras braced himself against the door, attempting to regain his bearings.

_You've seen much worse than this in the streets. What's the matter with you? _

_But it's not the same with him. I know him. I love him. _

His thoughts were interrupted as he realized someone was trying to open the door. Embarassed, Enjolras moved away as the doctor emerged, wiping his hands on a rag.

"You promised me he wouldn't feel anything." Enjolras said quietly. The doctor sighed.

"I might have underdone the brandy."

Enjolras stared.

"That's all you have to say?"

The doctor put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"This isn't an easy job, lad. Doctors make mistakes all the time. We just have to soldier on."

"Can I see him?"

"He needs to rest." The doctor said.

"Oh. I see. So he can just suffer alone." Enjolras turned, starting down the hallway, making for the stairs, swallowing back his anger. Didn't they understand what they'd been through? _I just want to hold him, _Enjolras thought, ignoring the hot tears pricking his eyes. _Just let me hold him._

* * *

Forks clattered hollowly on china plates. It just made the dining room seem larger, to Enjolras. He'd never liked it when guests stayed for dinner at his family's house-he hated eating in front of others. And now he was sitting at a table with two complete strangers. Well, he assumed they were strangers. The man, their host, was distractingly familiar. Between this and the thought of Marius, alone upstairs, battling the after-pains of the amputation, Enjolras lost all appetite.

This did provide an opportunity to study Cosette. She certainly was a beauty, if a little too pastel for Enjolras's tastes. And she was very sweet. Enjolras couldn't help the wave of jealousy that overtook him.

_You practically carried him through the slums of Paris._ Enjolras thought to himself. _You sat with him when they amputated his leg._

Enjolras struggled to keep down what little he'd consumed. It was already awkward enough, having dinner with his lover's sweetheart. He didn't need to vomit as well.

And he couldn't quite quell the feelings of superiority.

_I've seen him naked and hard in my bed. You've held his hand through a gate. _

His host made some attempt at a conversation, but eventually accepted that neither his daughter nor his guest were willing to speak. Eventually, Cosette excused herself from the table, moving into the parlor. A minute later, the first cold, haunting notes of piano drifted into the dining room.

"You haven't eaten." His host said.

"No appetite." Enjolras replied. "I'm afraid I lost all my hunger when my friend lost his leg."

The other man nodded, understanding.

"I'm afraid I haven't introduced myself properly." He said, and held out his hand. "Urbain. Urbain Fabre."

Enjolras took his hand, shaking it.

"You can call me Enjolras." He stood abruptly. "Forgive me, I'm rather tired."

Fabre nodded once more.

"Go on. You're upstairs, the second door on the right."

Enjolras thanked him, heading upstairs.

He was several rooms away from Marius, Enjolras realized as he closed the door to his room. He should go in, if only to just hold his hand while he slept. Enjolras would have been happy just to watch him doze.

But he couldn't go in now. The doctor and his assistant had left an hour ago, promising to return the next day, but Enjolras didn't feel comfortable while Fabre and his daughter were still awake. And Cosette would likely want to see him too…

Enjolras settled onto the bed, feeling his body sigh in relief.

_Marius... think about Marius, stressing over an upcoming exam, kissing him for the little things..._

Enjolras fell asleep, the good memories putting a smile on his face.

* * *

The blond woke several hours later to a house bathed in darkness. Perfect. Fabre and his daughter would likely be in bed, hopefully asleep. He couldn't afford to have someone catch him.

He'd fallen asleep in his clothes. No matter. Enjolras slid out his bed, silently stretching as he made his way to the door. Where was Marius's room? Oh yes, the third door across from him.

Enjolras carefully turned the doorknob, wincing at the creak that came as the door opened.

"Marius…" He breathed.

The figure in the bed stirred, a vague shape in the darkness.

"Who… who's…"

Enjolras stepped inside, going towards the bed.

"It's me."

Marius reached out, arm shaking.

"Enjolras…"

The blond sat next to Marius on the bed, taking his hand.

"Shh… how do you feel?"

Marius sniffed in the darkness.

"It still hurts." He whimpered. "I swear… sometimes I can still feel it... the leg..."

"Have you tried to sleep?"

"I can't. It hurts too much."

The two boys were quiet for a while. Then a sob broke through the silence, and Marius leaned his head against Enjolras' chest.

"Hold me, Enjolras."

Enjolras wrapped his arms around him, lips pressing onto his forehead as a tear trickled into Marius's hair.

The dark-haired boy buried his face in Enjolras' neck, drinking in his scent and muffling his sobs.

"Don't ever stop holding me." He murmured. "No matter what happens... just touch me."

Enjolras tilted Marius's chin up, kissing his tear-soaked lips as another drop slipped down his cheek.

"Hush."

Hands found each other in the darkness, fingers locking together. Enjolras settled against the pillows and Marius laid his head on his chest, playing absently with the seam of his vest. More tears gradually dampened the dark fabric.

"Do you think we'll ever be able to... admit that we love each other?" Marius asked.

"Don't think about that. Right now, we _have_ each other. Isn't that the most important thing?" Enjolras trailed his hand down his cheek.

"I don't want to lose you. I don't want to see this happen to you. Let me-"

"-do you want to-" Enjolras' hands were already at his shirt collar.

Marius put a finger to his lips, his other hand pressing against Enjolras'.

"No. I just want to make love to you."

* * *

Weak, grey, Parisian light was just seeping through the curtains when Enjolras awoke. Marius was still asleep, lips pressed against the blond's shoulder.

The physician would be back in an hour or so.

_I need to get back to my own bed._ He thought and glanced at Marius, still asleep, the dawn enhancing his pallor. _But_ _I can't just leave him to wake up alone and scared. I promised I'd stay with him…_

Marius's eyes fluttered open as Enjolras brushed his lips on his cheek.

"Enjolras…"

"I have to go. The doctor will be back soon."

"Don't leave me alone. Not with them." Marius seized his hand as Enjolras stood.

"Shh." Enjolras cupped his face in his hands, kissing him silently. "I'll come to you again tonight."

Marius brushed his lips against Enjolras's wrist, running his cheek along the skin.

"Promise me."

"I swear."

The boy sighed, settling against the mattress. A final caress of his cheek, and Enjolras slipped out the door, back to his own room.

_He's completely defeated._ Enjolras stared up at the ceiling, full of cracks and lumps of plaster. The bed felt uncomfortably unslept-in, as well as cold, without the comforting heat of another body beside him. Marius's face continued to haunt him-frightened, wincing with every throb of his... stump. Enjolras bit his lip. The word sounded unnecessarily harsh.

_The loss of his leg completely shattered him._

* * *

**Review?**


	4. Fraying

**A/N: Okay, I don't know if I'll be updating for a couple weeks, so here you are~**

It was afternoon in Paris and Marius was struggling with his crutches, Enjolras walking beside him to catch him if he fell. It was several weeks after they'd amputated his leg, and Marius was finally able to get out of bed.

"Let's turn here."

Enjolras hesitated.

"Marius... that's where we set up the barricade."

The boy stopped short, turning back to Enjolras.

"I know." He held out his hand. "Come with me?"

Enjolras bit his lip.

"I don't know if I can..."

Marius limped closer.

"Please."

Enjolras finally nodded, sighing.

They almost didn't recognize the street. The barricade had been mostly torn down, only a few barrels and bits of wood that may have been chairs remained.

That, and the traces of blood on the cobbles.

Enjolras seized Marius's hand as they made their way down the street.

"...All my fault..."

Marius didn't reply as he stared at the buildings. So unchanged, except for the imprints of bullets against the masonry. _You'd think this would be where boys would walk with their sweethearts. Not be shot down. _

There was a crunch of gravel as Enjolras left Marius's side, ducking into the Musain_._ Marius followed, feeling his stomach clench at familiarity of the surroundings. The same smell of sweat and cheap wine, the same semi-darkness, even some of the same customers-mere shadows in darker corners.

Enjolras was making for the back room, staring in shocked horror at the table, with its cold, abandoned chairs. One hand ran along the wood, and Enjolras looked back up at Marius.

"It's my fault. I killed them."

Marius joined him, placing his hand over Enjolras'.

"They followed you because they believed in you and your cause. And they died for that belief."

Enjolras snorted.

"Not all of them. Grantaire didn't believe."

"Grantaire loved you." Marius said gently. "As much as I do."

The blond sighed.

"I know."

He dipped his head, letting Marius brush his lips with his own just briefly. They couldn't afford to be caught now.

* * *

"How is your leg?"

Marius smiled.

"Better, thank you."

Cosette took his hand shyly.

"The crutches aren't too difficult, I hope."

"They improve with use."

Marius made a side-long glance at Enjolras, who was putting on a terrific display of examining one of the books that had been formerly abandoned in the parlor. He thought he recognized one of Enjolras' carefully honed looks of disinterest. It was what had earned him "the statue" as a nickname.

There was a muffled knock and of footsteps heading for the front door. A minute later, the door to the parlor opened and Fabre stepped in, holding the door for another gentleman, this one portly and-

Marius's eyes widened.

"_Grand-pere_?"

Monsieur Gillenormand smiled weakly, his eyes flicking to Enjolras, who raised his eyebrows and matched his stare effortlessly. Gillenormand turned back to Marius.

"Monsieur Fabre contacted me, told me of your condition. I'm sorry to hear of your leg-" He noticed Cosette. "Pardon me, Mademoiselle." He kissed her hand, the very image of an old-world gallant. "And you are...?"

"I'm Cosette." She withdrew her hand, clasping them demurely in her lap.

Gillenormand smiled down at her.

"You remind me of a beautiful young lady I knew once." he said. Cosette lowered her eyes.

"You are too kind."

The elderly baron glanced at Marius and then back at Cosette. Finally-

"Shall we take a walk around the garden?"

Marius nodded, reaching for his crutches.

* * *

"On the whole, I approve." Monsieur Gillenormand said as they strolled over the green. "Of course, she is not quite of the social rank I had hoped for-likely her dowry is slim at best-but who could reject a face like that? I applaud you, Marius. She is exquisite."

Marius looked down, as if focusing on his crutches.

"However," Gillenormand continued. "I do wish you would choose your friends with more care. I see that your little ring leader is still alive. He-"

"_Grand-pere-_" Marius said quietly.

"- can hardly see how he persuaded any of them to -"

"_Grand-pere!_"

Gillenormand looked up in surprise.

"Enjolras all but carried me from the barricades. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here to talk to you."

"That is beside the point!" The older man said. "Were he a true friend, he would never have led you into danger in the first place! Honestly, sometimes I fear for your judgement, particularly with you marrying so soon! Imagine, getting shot at for a thankless rabble."

"Thankless?" Marius retorted. "You're a fine one to talk of thanklessness! Enjolras hasn't even received a letter from his father. I get a visit from you, but all you do is berate me because, apparently, I fell in with the wrong sort! What about those families all over Paris, who are at a loss of what to do, because they don't even have a son _left _to berate?"

"I-you-" Gillenormand spluttered.

"Thank you for the visit, _Grand-pere. _I hope we understand each other now." His tone was cool, unaffected, a far cry from the heated shout of earlier.

Gillenormand hesitated, then nodded.

"Indeed, _Grand-fils_. I'll take my leave now."

* * *

_Marius really is a fool, _Enjolras thought, _If he's actually going to walk through all of this rain._

He was sitting at the window of the parlor, watching Marius move through the garden as rain poured onto the house, streaming off the roof.

The floorboards creaked behind him and Enjolras turned. It was Fabre. Enjolras nodded to him, turning back to the window.

There was silence. Finally, Enjolras spoke.

"You were at the barricade."

Fabre nodded.

"Yes."

"You were the one who tried to save Marius."

"Yes."

Enjolras turned to the older man.

"Why?"

Fabre seemed to sigh.

"I saw the letter he'd written to Cosette."

Enjolras looked away.

"I'm an old man," Fabre continued. "My time on this earth is slipping away. One last gift for my angel."

Enjolras smiled wistfully, still staring out the window as yet another silence fell.

_I'm losing him so fast. Why did I think I could hold onto him? _Enjolras was pulled out of his reverie as Fabre spoke.

"What are you thinking of?"

"Just... someone I knew... once..."

"A woman?"

Enjolras bit his lip, saying nothing.

"She left you for another?"

Enjolras remained silent.

"Boys your age fall in love all the time. It was likely just an infatuation."

Finally, Enjolras turned.

"It was _not_ an infatuation! I love him!"

There was a terrible silence.

"Her." Enjolras whispered, too late. "I love her."

_What have I done? After everything we've been through, after all the precautions we've taken to make sure we're not discovered, and I destroy it all with a slip of the tongue... oh God, why isn't he saying anything? Why won't he say something?_

Enjolras stood, abandoning his seat by the window, feeling the first hot tears of self-hatred prick at his eyes, still waiting for Fabre to speak, to denounce him, to-

"Dinner will be ready soon. Why don't you call your friend inside? I think he's been in the rain long enough, don't you?"

Enjolras scanned Fabre's face for any hint of malice, but the man's expression was impassive.

"I-I-" The blond finally nodded to himself. "Of course, yes."

* * *

Two minutes later, the painted doors to the garden swung open as Enjolras headed into the rain.

"Marius!"

It had gotten darker now, but he could just make out the dark shape of someone turning to face him.

"Dinner will be ready in a moment, and Monsieur Fabre wants you inside."

Marius stepped closer, squinting at Enjolras through the storm. Rain ran through the boy's blond locks, streaming over his face.

"Marius?"

In answer, the boy pulled Enjolras close with one hand, lips meeting, tongues entwining as a hand carded through Marius' hair.

"Come to me tonight." Marius mumbled through the kiss. Enjolras nodded, pressing his cheek against Marius'.

"They'll be looking for us soon." He whispered. Marius ran his lips along the other boy's throat.

"Let them."

Enjolras sighed at the touch.

"I could stay here... forever..."

"Can we?"

Reluctantly, the blond caught Marius' hands.

"Tonight." He murmured. "Tonight, Marius."

The boys made their way slowly back to the house, arms around each other, neither willing to give up what they had fought so long and so hard to keep.

* * *

Somehow, they'd gotten through dinner without a hitch, mostly spent trying to suppress their lust. Now, the door opened with a creak, but Enjolras barely noticed it now. Marius looked up from the bed, still dressed, eyes shining.

"Enjolras."

The blond shut the door behind him, striding for the bed, pulling Marius into his arms, lips crashing together, hands pawing at clothes, fighting to get at flesh.

"Touch me..."

"Shh..."

A hand pulled Enjolras' head against Marius's chest, lips running across the skin. A flex of his hips and the blond wrapped his arms around his lover's neck-

"I- h-harder, harder! You..."

Enjolras moaned against the dark-haired boy's skin, his hair falling against his chest- a golden inferno.

"Marius..."

"My name... say it... please..."

"Marius... Marius... Marius..." With each thrust now, tears streaming down his cheeks in thin rivulets.

A final moan, and Enjolras sank against the mattress, trembling. His hair stuck to his face in damp tendrils, and Marius reached over, hand shaking, to brush a golden curl out of his eyes. Enjolras caught his hand, kissing the fingertips, tongue playing against the nails.

Marius felt a sob rise inside him.

"Do you remember..." He whispered. "That first night, you did that..."

Their lips met again in a long, silent kiss. They were both crying now.

"Nothing's changed." Enjolras murmured back. "Nothing except everything."

"I can't... let myself marry her... not now."

"Hush..." Enjolras put a finger to his lips, a tear slipping down his cheek. "I-I don't want you to... either..."

Marius wrapped his arms around his lover, burying his head in Enjolras's neck. One hand stroked the nape of his neck soothingly.

"I'm staying here tonight." Enjolras whispered into Marius's dark hair. "With you. I don't care if someone sees us, I _want_ to be caught..."

Marius nodded against his shoulder.

"Let's rebel."

* * *

Life was incredibly simple for Lucile Toussaint. Wake up, light the fires in all the bedrooms for the old man and the girl-and now, the new tenants-help the girl dress, and then get the table laid out for breakfast, then dinner. A simple routine.

The blond one wasn't in his room. Lucile was rather disappointed about this, she'd been hoping for another chance to see him in bed. Probably off whoring, if she knew her men. Lucile wondered vaguely who the lucky tart was. Oh well, he'd want a warm room whenever he returned. Better light a fire anyway.

Now for the other room. Once the heap of ash and coals had a satisfactory glow to them, Lucile stood, making for the door. Her feet were sore from walking from one end of the house to the other. But, of course, the girl couldn't be allowed to sleep in the same wing as the two young and male guests-

The dark one wasn't alone. For one wild moment, Lucile thought it was Cosette sleeping beside him, and then she took in the straight, narrow shape of the bare torso beneath the bedclothes and-

Oh. _Ohh_...


	5. Shatter

**A/N: Short chapter, sorry about that!**

* * *

It was the gentle crackling of flames that woke Marius. Flames. Fireplace. The maid must have been. Marius glanced beside him, at Enjolras, who still slept, blond curls spilling over the pillow. The sunlight made them glow.

Flames. Fireplace.

The maid must have seen them.

_I don't care if someone sees us, I want to be caught..._

_Let's rebel..._

Words were all very well, but now that it actually happened... they'd only just escaped with their lives from the barricade. What if this was the crime that killed them?

Enjolras was shaken awake. He stared around the room for a moment before his eyes focused on Marius, placing a hand on his cheek.

"What's happened? You're so pale..."

"You need to get back to your own bed."

"What?"

"The maid saw us."

Enjolras's face flickered, the same thoughts running through his brain.

"Oh my God..."

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, scrabbling for his trousers.

"If she tells Fabre, he might still believe her." Marius said. "You know how he is."

"And I already let slip that I like boys." Enjolras muttered. "If she tells her employer, he has no reason to doubt her."

"What do you mean?" Marius leaned across the bed, tossing Enjolras's shirt to him.

"I let slip to Fabre that I love you." Enjolras struggled with the buttons of his trousers. "I don't know if he-"

He looked up at Marius, who'd fallen silent, staring at him.

"You... you... you never said..."

Enjolras smiled gently.

"I never thought I needed to."

Bare arms wrapped around his neck, as Marius pulled him close, leaning his head on Enjolras's chest. They didn't speak, simply holding each other, Enjolras' lips brushing his forehead.

"Did you ever doubt me?" He whispered into Marius's hair.

"No. I just needed to hear you say it."

A moment later, they broke apart, Enjolras pulling his shirt into place. A final brush of the lips-

"I'm sorry"

-and the blond headed across the corridor, back to his own bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Marius fell back against the pillows, feeling the beginnings of a headache throb in his temples.

_This relationship was a brush with disaster._ He thought, _I think we just hit._

* * *

_Six months later-_

Marius's hands shook as he fumbled with his neck-cloth. He glanced at Enjolras, who flashed a smile and then looked away.

"Nerves?"

Marius nodded.

"Let me." Enjolras gently took the cravat, knotting it carefully.

"I'll be a married man soon." Marius muttered.

"I'm just tying your cravat."

There was a pregnant silence.

"It was just an infatuation. I saw her in the street, I thought she was pretty, and I lost my head. I never thought about marriage..."

Enjolras didn't reply.

"I mean, it's you or her now." Marius continued. "And I-I can't love her, Enjolras."

"Shh." Enjolras made the final knot. "Is that too tight?"

Marius shook his head.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I ever dragged you into this. You were right, you know. I ruin everything I touch." He sighed. "Why couldn't I have just left you alone? I'm just sorry. I'm sorry..."

Enjolras bit his lip, finally saying,

"Let me tell you a secret." He leaned closer till his lips were by Marius's ear.

"I'm not."

* * *

All right. She was pretty. Enjolras would give her that. The white gown worked very well with her milky, blonde beauty. But still, why did _she_ have to marry him in the end? Just because some stuffed shirts thought they were in love...

Enjolras watched Cosette make her way down the aisle, foamy dress trailing across the floor.

_Damn all assumptions._ He thought.

The two smiled nervously at each other, the picture of love in all innocence. The priest droned on.

"If any man can show just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace."

There was a respectful silence. Marius' eyes flicked from Enjolras to Cosette.

Quietly, Enjolras turned and walked out of the church. A mutter spread through the guests as the door slammed.

With shaking hands, tears blotting the paper and the ink, one final note.

_I love you_.

He left it on the pillow.


	6. Ineffective

The Musain was doing a roaring trade that night. Probably because man is habitually morbid. The idea of drinking with the ghosts of dead school boys was bound to appeal.

Enjolras sat in the corner, a bottle of truly horrible wine on the table beside him.

Bitter. Yes, that's what he needed. Something to mirror his feelings. His thoughts.

Maybe he would turn into Grantaire-losing so often and so hard that he'd just turn to his bottle for warmth and comfort because no human being would offer it...

He stared relentlessly into his bottle just as a hand was laid on his shoulder. For some reason, he thought it'd be Marius. But no. Just some bar tart with painted cheeks and a décolletage revealing far more than Enjolras was interested in.

"You want some company tonight?" She said. He pulled away, not answering. The whore settled onto his table, one hand trailing over his chest.

"Looks like I could warm you up a treat."

Enjolras seized hold of her fingers as she made a grab for his crotch, pushing her hand away.

"Oh, so you want to play rough? Well, if violence is all you want..." Her nails dug into his palm, and he belted her across the face. The girl wiped blood away from her lips, giving him a dirty look and a dirtier gesture with her bloody fingers as she went off in search of friendlier customers.

Left with his drink and his thoughts, Enjolras buried his face in his hands.

_It's not fair. I don't care if she loves him, it's not fair. I love him too! How are he and Cosette so wonderful? What did they _do?_ And Marius just let it happen. He had the opportunity, but he didn't even fight it! I thought he loved me... and this is what he calls rebellion?_

_One week later-_

Cosette opened her eyes, letting one hand slide across the space beside her. Nothing there, but that didn't surprise her. Marius was an early riser. Cosette sat up, dragging a hand through her pale hair. She didn't ring for her maid, Lucile would take care of her as she finished her fireplace rounds.

So. This was married life. Waking up in an empty bed. She didn't feel married yet. Marius was loving, but distant. And now that Papa was dead...

Cosette started as Lucile opened her bedroom door.

"Oh! Pardon Mademoi-Madame, I didn't know you were awake."

"No no, it's quite all right." Cosette replied. "After you light the fire, could you help me dress?"

Lucile nodded, kneeling by the fireplace. Once a fire was flickering at the hearth, the two girls fell into conversation, as Lucile laced Cosette into her corset.

"What's it like to be a married woman?" Lucile asked. "And so young too!"

Cosette tucked a blonde tendril of hair behind her ear.

"I honestly don't feel any different." She said. "I mean, I am married, in every sense of the word," She blushed. "But I still feel like I'm just a little girl, living with my papa." She sighed. "Just a lonely little girl."

Lucile cooed in sympathy.

"But, I'm sure Monsieur Pontmercy is a good husband..."

_She sounds almost hesitant. I wonder why that is...? _Aloud, Cosette said,

""Yes. He is, but he seems very distant sometimes. Like he'd rather be somewhere else. I don't pretend to know why." She raised her arms over her head, allowing Lucile to fit the overgown over her head. "But he does love me, I'm sure."

The maid bit her lip.

"Of course, Madame."

* * *

"_Chocolat Chaud_?"

"Yes, thank you." The blonde handed him a porcelain teacup filled with warm brown froth.

Marius took a sip, eyes focused on nothing.

Where the devil had he gone? The doors had slammed shut and Marius had been left to marry Cosette alone. For God's sake, the man had been shot at by the National Guard and hadn't run. But he couldn't watch his lover marry someone else. They could have talked afterwards, worked things out. But then, they never would have had time, as the Thenardiers had oozed through the doors - like pus from a boil, Marius thought absently - and Cosette's father...

"Marius?"

He looked up as his wife spoke.

"Where were you?"

Marius forced a smile.

"What do you mean?"

"You looked far away, like something was hurting you." She took his hand, leaning across the table. "It's not your... leg, is it?"

"No, it's still painful at times, but I can ignore it. I just..."

She stroked his hand, tracing an invisible pattern onto his skin.

"What do you need?" She asked. "Tell me what's wrong."

_How ineffective._ _She doesn't realize..._

The voice in his head sounded like Enjolras.

Marius pulled away, standing, leaning on the table for support, reaching for his crutches. Cosette looked up, eyes wide like a doe.

"I need to go." He said. "I'll be back this evening."

Cosette stood, going after him.

"Marius?"

He stared at her a moment at her, at her gentle, bourgeois beauty. Enjolras' blue eyes burned in his mind.

He looked away, leaving the room.

* * *

He'd been at the Musain for a week, and still wouldn't leave. Even the whores at the tavern learned to leave him alone, for all his fine clothes and angelic beauty. He'd rented a room there, rarely coming downstairs.

The tavernkeeper's wife, Aveline, had looked in on him once, out of motherly concern. He'd been lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Staring at nothing.

One evening, the tenant emerged from the room to buy another bottle. The bartender obliged, handing him the dusty bottle of claret.

"You look familiar." He said. "Have you come here before...?"

The blond didn't reply, merely sighed and retreated to his usual table.

There was a commotion at the door. Mostly likely some wealthy customer arriving or leaving, Enjolras thought.

He shut it out, the way he'd shut out everything for the past week.

Someone touched his shoulder.

"Go away, I'm not interested." he said coldly, without looking up.

His visitor sat beside him, hand remaining on his back. At the swish of expensive skirts, Enjolras looked up into clear blue eyes-eyes that matched his own perfectly.

"Madame."

"Now, really." The woman chided gently. "Who taught you to call your own mother 'madame?'"

Enjolras avoided his mother's gaze.

"Go away." He muttered. "I don't want to talk to anyone."

His mother ignored him, as always.

"How long have you been here?" She asked. Enjolras shrugged.

"About a week. I don't know. How did you find me?"

"You had your meetings here, didn't you? It's been a while, but... if you were still upset, that's where you'd go to mourn. I know you too well."

His mother brushed his cheek.

"What's happened?"

He gave her a cold look, not answering. She sighed.

"Go on. Tell me." You always told me what was wrong when you were younger."

"Perhaps I've grown up."

"Tell me."

"Why are you here?" Enjolras fingered the wood of the table without interest.

"I'm bringing you home."

"Father disinherited me. He wouldn't want me in the house."

His mother gave him a look.

"And where do you think you got that rebellious streak, _mon petit_? From your father?"

Enjolras bit his lip.

"I think I've gotten over that."

"So you're not going to tell me how you got here."

The blond turned away, and his mother noted the look of alcohol-deadened misery in his eyes. He groaned.

"How could I?"

His mother squeezed his hand.

"I..." He sighed, eyes filling with tears. "_Maman..."_

The Baroness pulled her son up bodily, letting him lean against her.

"Hush... hush, mon petit..."

There was no need. Enjolras was silent, but shook violently, one hand clutched at his temple.

She helped him into the carriage that waited outside. Once esconced against the pale gold velvet, the Baroness attempted to put her arm around him, but Enjolras edged away from her, staring blankly out the window.

"_Mon petit-"_

The boy flinched at the childhood endearment. Any sign of his earlier weakness was gone, he'd reverted into a statue-cold, beautiful, and seething.

"Don't talk to me."

"I'm only trying to-"

"I told you not to talk." His voice shook, and he hated himself for it.

The carriage rolled onwards, down the dirty, rat-infested streets of lower Paris, and into the twilight.

* * *

Cosette looked up from the book she'd been reading as the bedroom door opened.

"Hello again."

Her husband slowly made his way to the bed. He'd gotten better with his crutches as the months went by, yet he still found moving awkward in smaller rooms. Carefully, he lowered himself onto the mattress, allowing Cosette to undo his cravat.

_His fingers nimbly playing with the ends of the fabric, slowly driving them both mad with desire-_

"Thank you."

Cosette nodded and a chilly silence descended. Finally-

"Where did you go?"

Marius shrugged.

"Nowhere in particular. Just walked mostly."

Several minutes later, Marius crawled under the covers, joining his wife.

"Marius," She began. "We've... been so distant lately, I just..." Cosette sighed. "We're going to be all right, aren't we?" She touched his shoulder. "Tell me we'll be all right."

Marius sighed, saying nothing, and closed his eyes, listening to Cosette roll over, to the sobs she thought no one could hear.


	7. Discovering

"No. Absolutely not."

The Baron d'Enjolras looked from wife to son in a frightening mix of outrage and disgust.

"I am not having him in the house."

"He's your son!"

"Hardly."

Enjolras slumped into a heavily brocaded chair. His headache drummed inside his head. He could hear it roaring against his skull - dizzy.

He groaned and his father shot him a glare.

"Revolting against the king, disappearing for half a year, and then turning up drunk in a tavern?" The Baron turned back to his wife. "No. I won't allow it."

"But where can he go?" His mother demanded. "Surely you won't just turn him onto the streets!"

The Baron's lips twitched.

"Oh, the boy might enjoy it. After all, he'd rather we all lived in hovels and treated the plague-infested neighbors as our brothers, wouldn't he?"

The man's voice only made Enjolras' headache worse.

The Baroness went to her husband, one hand on his cheek.

"He's still my son." She said. "He was part of me once."

"Anaïs-"

"Don't break that bond. Please. For me?"

Her husband frowned.

"He'd been at University for almost a year and you never said anything..."

"I knew then he would be coming back." The Baroness bit her lip. "But I'll lose him forever if you don't let him stay. Cut him out of the will if you want, ignore him if you want, but don't turn him away."

The Baron sighed.

"Fine." He said. "At least this way, I can be certain he's not shaming the family name more than he already has."

Enjolras' mother kissed her husband on the cheek.

The blond thought with a twinge of Marius, his poor, beautiful Marius, married, trapped with his blonde doll...

_Shaming the family name. Oh mon père... if only you knew._

* * *

_His hand slipped in his lover's grasp as he screamed, the knife burning through the flesh of his leg. The room swam in his vision and Enjolras was whispering something in his ear, something sweet and low, edged with terror._

_"Shh... it's-it's-" _

_Blood... there was so much blood... and it hurt so much... Marius whimpered through the wood in his mouth._

_"Enolrs..."_ _Enjolras ran his thumb over his cheek and Marius writhed, the conflicting sensations driving him into delirium-_

"Huh?"

Marius's eyes snapped open in the darkness. Dark. He trembled under the sheets, not daring to move, as if he was six years old and had a nightmare... one hand crept across the mattress. Enjolras would understand, he had the dreams as well, and it was good to have someone to hold onto, to brave the darkness with...

A hand, smaller than he'd expected, took his own, squeezing it gently.

"Marius?"

_Cosette. Not Enjolras. You need to get over this..._

"Just a dream." He said. "Go back to sleep. I'll be fine."

He didn't sleep for the rest of the night, the dark shapes playing with his mind.

* * *

Enjolras traced a hand over the wood paneling of his old room, the feel of it alien under his touch. He'd seen too many new rooms in the past months... there was a cough from the doorway.

"Well?"

He glanced up, meeting his father's gaze.

"Glad to be home?"

Enjolras bit his lip.

"It's marginally better than the Musain."

"I'm sure." His father replied dryly.

There was a frigid silence.

"You're still disinherited." His father said finally. "Don't try to get anything from me, my mind's made up."

Enjolras turned away, staring at the wall.

"I didn't plan to. I wouldn't want anything of yours anyway."

He could feel his father's stare blaze on the back of his neck.

"Careful, boy. For your mother's sake, you can stay, but only as long as you can remain respectable."

Enjolras found himself being jerked about, his father holding the collar of his shirt.

"I swear to God, one mistake and I'm turning you out."

"And I'm sure it will give you pleasure to know that will not be hardship for me." Enjolras spat.

"I trained in the National Guard, boy." The Baron yanked his son closer. "And when something went wrong, they beat the right answer into you. I am not above doing the same to you."

"I know you're not." Enjolras tried to ignore the slight but insistent quake of his hands. "Why? Because we had this same talk when I was ten, and you were beating me long before then."

His father let go of Enjolras, letting him stumble against the wall.

"Good. I hope we understand each other."

The door shut behind him, leaving Enjolras to sit on his bed, to stare at the ceiling and deal with the memories that had come rushing back.

* * *

Marius' crutches clacked against the pavement. Rain poured off the eaves of buildings, soaking his coat. What remained of his leg felt worse than ever.

* * *

Enjolras may as well have been under house arrest. He couldn't go out without somebody in tow, and never too far from the house. He didn't speak to his father much, frankly going out of his way to avoid him. His mother was...bearable, until she tried to talk to him.

Now he looked out the window of his room, watching the rainfall.

_Find me. Find me, hold me, and take me away from here._

* * *

"Oi! Monsieur!"

Marius glanced at the speaker, a rough boy of twelve or thirteen.

"D'you want a paper?"

Marius sighed, fumbling in his pocket for a coin or two. Anything to take his mind off the leg.

The boy took the coins eagerly, handing Marius the paper. There was something about him, Marius realized. A slight shadow of Gavroche on his face, a glint in the eye. Before he turned to go-

"Oh, boy?"

The child looked up.

"You take care."

The boy gave him an odd look, then moved on. Marius, still smiling sadly, glanced at the paper. Nothing but a Society Column, dressed up in overly pretentious writing and descriptions of gowns.

_...Mademoiselle Girard was spotted in close conversation with Monsieur Romilly, it is rumored that she said no..._

_...Madame Bellerose, clad in a stunning confection of cherry silk and black lace edging..._

Just as Marius made the decision to drop the paper in the gutter, something caught his eye.

_"Has the Prodigal Son returned at last? It is rumored that the Baron and Baroness d'Enjolras have welcomed their wayward son back into the fold, whom our readers will remember disappeared shortly after the June Uprisings, in which it was rumored that the boy headed his own division of revolutionaries..."_

Marius clenched the paper in his fist, breathing a sigh he hadn't realized he was holding back.

Finally.

* * *

"He's been dreaming." Cosette said, as Lucile ran a brush through her hair. "He doesn't tell me what about though. And I can never convince him to talk about them." She sniffed. "He seems so unhappy, but I can't help him. He won't _let_ me. He never wants to be near me anymore."

"Has he..." Lucile bit her lip. "Has he seen his friend lately?"

Cosette frowned.

"Friend?"

"The blond one." Lucile said. "He lived here for a while."

"I don't know." Cosette replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh... no reason... just..."

Almost a month of strained marriage had worn at Cosette's patience.

"Just what?"

"I-I-I just wondered if perhaps your husband-" She trailed to a stop.

Cosette turned to face her maid.

"What? My husband what?"

"I-I-I just saw them one morning and..." Lucile was near tears now.

"What? Tell me!"

"T-together! In bed!"

There was dead silence, and Lucille clapped her hands over her mouth, as if to stop the words that had already been spoken.

Cosette stared.

"No. No. That's not true! It can't be!" She didn't seem to realize she was screaming. "Get out!"

Lucile didn't need to be told twice.

"Cosette?"

The girl looked up from her plate.

"Are you all right?"

She sighed, nodding.

"And you? How was your walk?"

_Wonderful. I found him at last._

"Fine. It was a pleasant day." Marius said, lying through his teeth as rain lashed the windows.

There was silence, and then Marius spoke.

"I saw that my friend, Enjolras, has returned home." He said. "I thought I might visit him, just to see how he fares."

Cosette bit her lip, saying nothing.

"You needn't come along, unless you wish to, of course."

Cosette nodded slowly, and Marius noted how pale she looked.

"No. I won't intrude." She stood, leaving the room and a moment later, Marius heard muffled sobs echo through the walls.

* * *

Enjolras started at the knock of the door and the patter of footsteps as a servant went to answer it. Oh dear God, having to entertain one of father's friends until he came home...

Several sets of footsteps echoed outside the room and Enjolras braced himself as the announcement came.

"Monsieur Marius Pontmercy."

Enjolras turned from the window in shock, meeting the hazel gaze he'd needed for so long at last...

"Marius?"

He gestured at the majordomo to leave. Once he was out of sight, Enjolras stood, all but running to his lover.

"How the hell did you find me?"

Marius sank into a chair.

"God bless the scandal sheets."

Enjolras grinned and, abandoning all propriety, crawled into his lap, lips grazing Marius', tongues lancing together in an open-mouthed kiss.

"So." Marius gasped once they'd broken apart. "How have you been?"

Enjolras sighed, laying his head against his lover's chest.

"I'm home."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Marius played with a blond curl, twining it around his finger.

"It means that my mother tries and fails to be maternal, and my father threatens to strike me if I disgrace the family name any more than I already have."

Marius stiffened beneath him.

"Where are they?"

"Out calling. They won't be home for a while." There was a pause. "How are you?"

It was Marius' turn to sigh.

"I'd be much better if you hadn't abandoned me at the altar."

Enjolras looked at him quizzically.

"What do you mean?"

"If you hadn't left me there, then we could have made our case!"

"In a Catholic Church?" Enjolras scoffed. "It'd never stand."

"But couldn't you have stayed? At least for me?"

Enjolras looked away, a hand remaining on Marius's chest.

"I couldn't watch you marry her."

"Enjolras-"

"Could you have done it?"

"Yes." Marius insisted. "I would have stayed and at the first chance I would have dragged you out of that church."

"Then you are much stronger than I." Enjolras hesitated, then continued. "And, I suppose, a part of me still hated you for giving in. For letting go and marrying her. For what you did to me that night in the dormitory. The night you saw Cosette."

Marius stroked the blond's cheek, a single finger running over pale flesh. He seemed to be considering something.

"You never shout. Not even when you're angry. The only time I've ever seen you lose control was when you screamed at me all those months ago. Not that I didn't deserve it." He added quickly. "I was being a bastard. But why is that?"

Enjolras leaned back against his lover and sighed.

"I learned long ago to keep my mouth shut. In company, little or no emotion is better than excess."

Marius pressed his lips into the blond's shoulder.

"And when you're with me?"

The blond craned his neck, nibbling playfully on Marius's earlobe, hand snaking through his hair as Marius moved his lips to the other boy's cheek.

"With you, excess is always forgivable."

Enjolras slid one hand down to other's neck, playing with the cravat. Marius made a sound in his throat that sounded almost like a giggle.

"Beautiful..." He whispered, blowing the word against Enjolras' skin.

"So damned beautiful..."

Enjolras finally turned, allowing Marius to slide his hands under his waistcoat, petting at his chest. Their lips finally met, Marius almost seizing with the movement, losing himself in his lover's mouth. Tongues slid past each other, and Enjolras nearly giggled at the tickling sensation they produced.

"My parents will be home soon..." he murmured. "Let's meet again..."

"Where?"

"The Musain. I can pay for a room."

Marius brought the blond's chin up, letting Enjolras run his hands over his chest, up his jaw.

"When?" A slight jostle, and his lips landed on the corner of Enjolras' mouth.

"Tonight. Tomorrow night. Whenever we want." He replied between kisses.

A hand slid over Marius's thigh, dancing playfully to the insides. Marius batted him away with something between a laugh and a moan.

"I believe you said tonight?

Enjolras sighed, reluctantly pulling himself off Marius' lap.

"Tonight then. I'll wait at the Musain for you. " He said. "You'd better go."

Marius nodded, lurching to his feet on the crutches.

Enjolras saw him to the door, a hand on his back, steadying him. They

kissed once more on the threshold, and then Marius reluctantly broke away.

"I'll see you tonight." he murmured and the door opened and shut.

Enjolras leaned against it, unable to suppress the grin that crept

over his face.

* * *

**Thoughts?**


	8. Hurt

**A/N: Okay, really short chapter, I know. But it is crucial!**

* * *

They met at the Musain most evenings, when Enjolras could escape his parents and Marius could leave Cosette. They'd rent a room, spending the night there, and slip back to their respective houses before dawn broke.

"I'm only happy when I'm here." Marius whispered, settling against the threadbare pillow. Enjolras wrapped his arms around his torso.

"Maybe we could stay here." he murmured dreamily. "Never have to worry about anything, just love, love, love..."

They fell into silence.

"Do you still have those dreams?"

Marius nodded.

"And you?"

"Yes. At least you have Cosette. My parents never hear. They wouldn't help if they did."

"Perhaps we _should_ stay."

Enjolras sighed, laying his cheek against the other boy's chest.

"We'd go back. We always do."

"Shh."

Marius trailed his fingers over his lover's bare skin, oiled with sweat, and Enjolras nodded against his shoulders.

"Marius..."

A pause. Then Marius spoke.

"We've met here almost every night, for over a week now, and I should feel glad we can even touch each other but..." He traced the line of Enjolras's jaw. "I miss those days... when it was all revolution and romance and... and we didn't have to wait for anything... and-and all our friends were still alive." He smiled in the darkness. "I used to kiss your neck, while you planned the uprisings-drove you mad...remember?... and nothing seemed to _matter_... I wish we could go back to those days..."

Enjolras braced the dark-haired boy's lips with his fingers.

"Agreed." He said, as Marius pulled the tips of his fingers into his mouth. "It's not right, you have to commit infidelity and I risk my physical well-being just sneaking out the door... things were so much simpler then... sometimes I feel like we're just falling... and falling..."

"But we're worth it." Marius said. "Aren't we?"

Enjolras smiled, lips pressing against his neck.

"Of course."

* * *

The door creaked when Marius opened it. He ignored this, all of the doors in the house creaked incessantly. What he hadn't expected was the figure waiting for him in the parlor.

"Where have you been?" Cosette's voice was thick, cracking with sobs. "Oh, what's the point of asking, I _know_ where you've been."

"Cosette?"

Marius stepped into the room, now seeing Cosette, who sat on the chaise longue, eyes red with tears.

"You've been with _him_."

Marius's eyes widened.

"I-how-"

"Lucile."

She sniffed.

"I was willing to doubt you. And then you just disappear every night and-" She gasped for breath. "You only ever touched me once. The night after our wedding. And whose face did you see then, when you looked at me?!"

"I saw _you_!"

"How long has this been happening?" She sobbed. "When did you meet?"

Marius sighed, dropping into a chair.

"We were roommates. Roommates at university, when all he thought of was revolution and all I thought of was trying to pass my exams."

"And him!"

"Yes!" Marius cried. "Yes! I thought of him all the time! God, I _wanted_ him! And then I realized he wanted me too-!"

Cosette seemed to blanche against the wine-dark sofa.

"And you love him more than me."

Marius buried his face in his hands, screaming into his palms.

"Yes! I love him! Yes, I want him! Good God, we can't let go of each other!"

"Marius-" But there was no stopping him now.

"What have you ever done? Stayed at home and looked beautiful? He fought the National Guard and all but carried me back to you with an injured shoulder! He held my hand when they took my leg off while you sat in your room and cried! And you ask me if I love him more?!"

Cosette leaped from the chaise, staring at him, lips trembling.

"D-don't bother coming upstairs. I know there's no point." She fled the room, sobs echoing behind her, leaving Marius shaking with shock and anger in his chair.

* * *

He went back to their room at the Musain in the end, staying there for the rest of the day. He stayed away from windows, for a reason he couldn't fully explain.

Finally, evening came, along with Enjolras, September rain dripping from tendrils of blond hair.

"How long have you been here?"

"Most of the day."

Enjolras's brow furrowed.

"The whole day? What-"

"Cosette found out. The maid that saw us all those months ago told her."

The blond sank onto the bed, recently stripped of its sheets.

"Wonderful. And if my father gets wind of this..."

Marius slowly made his way to the bed, laying his crutches on the floor as he sat beside his lover.

"It all depends on her. Whatever she decides to do. God only knows what will happen to us."

"That depends on who she tells." Enjolras leaned against Marius' shoulder.

Marius sighed, pressing a kiss on the blond's forehead.

"We simply have to wait."

"I hate waiting."

"I know, love."

His hands landed on the back of Enjolras' neck, lips meeting in a deep kiss.

"Let's not worry." Enjolras mumbled.

* * *

**Thoughts?**


	9. Falling

**A/N: I warn you- this chapter is long and things happen kind of fast... so, yeah. Don't shoot me.**

* * *

Breakfast. Silverware with elaborate scrolling. Croissants with fruit and cream. Hot chocolate.

"...and the Earl Bisset invited us for dinner this evening." His father was saying. "No need for you to-" He glanced at his son. "Boy!"

_Bodies pressed together, arms tight around his chest, Marius's breath hot on his ear, his shoulder, in his hair-_

"Uh?" Enjolras jolted out of his reverie.

"We're attending dinner tonight." His father repeated. "I've seen to it that you will not be accompanying. We'll likely be gone for much of the night."

The boy nodded, taking a sip of _chocolat chaud_, slipping back into his head.

Perfect. He'd have the evening to himself, perhaps he could meet Marius early or...

The boy bit his lip, trying to repress the dreamy smile that crept over his face.

"What's that on your neck?" He looked up yet again, this time at his mother and his hands flew to his throat, fingers finding a love-bite from the night before. Tugging his collar over the wound surreptitiously, he waved his mother off.

"Nothing, just a scratch."

His parents each gave him a look and continued, his father's drone falling on deaf ears.

* * *

Cosette stared miserably at her reflection in the mirror, eyes puffy from a night spent crying. She'd been hoping Marius would ignore her words and come after her, come upstairs anyway. But he'd... done exactly what she'd told him to. He'd gone straight out again.

She was fighting a strong impulse to contact the blond's family... but she didn't even know where they lived. So much for that.

He hadn't cared enough to contradict her. That was what had hurt her. He'd admitted to everything, as if he didn't even care for her feelings anymore. As if she no longer existed for him.

_But how can that be,_ she thought tearfully, _when he's everything to me?_

* * *

Marius looked up at the rap on the open door, breaking into a grin when he saw Enjolras leaning against the doorframe.

"How are you?"

"Bored out of my mind." Marius replied. "I've been thinking mostly."

The blond stepped inside, but didn't remove his rain-soaked coat.

"My parents will be out for most of the night." He said. "Why don't we go to the house?"

Marius frowned.

"Isn't that a little risky?"

"I thought that was the point. Playing with fire..."

Marius stood, grinning, catching the other boy's arms for balance as his lips brushed against Enjolras' throat.

"As only Apollo knows how." He murmured. Enjolras rolled his eyes.

"Please, Marius. Not from you."

Marius grinned, and reached for his coat.

* * *

The door swung open on well-oiled hinges-Marius raised his eyebrows in mild surprise-and Enjolras stood aside, allowing him to enter his bedroom first.

Marius stepped over the threshold and, for a moment, was on the port of a different room, one where a blond, blue-eyed god had shaken his hand and unknowingly sent him reeling...

He snapped back to the present.

"Well?" Enjolras asked from the door. "What do you think?"

"It's... bare."

It wasn't. A bed, bureau, side-table, desk, small armchair-but it wasn't lived in. Someone had to come home to sleep in it each night, someone had to dress in it each morning, but there was no sign of any of this. No rumpled bedclothes, no shirts discarded on the floor, no papers strewn across the desk. It wasn't home.

Enjolras came behind him.

"We... we can go back to the Musain, if you want."

"No... it's..." It was hardly comfortable for Marius, but since they were here... "It's fine."

Marius turned to the blond and pulled him closer, lips meeting, as Enjolras steered him towards the bed, stumbling and landing with a muffled thump and _whoosh!_ of feathers. There was a _thunk_ as Marius' crutches hit the floor.

Hands wrestled with clasps and buttons, wrenching at fabric. Enjolras gave a moan of surprise, arching his throat as his lover ripped his cravat away with his teeth.

Lips met again, feverishly this time, the knowledge that they could be caught at any moment driving them on. The danger was thrilling.

Kisses over his chin, throat, chest, stomach-

"God, Marius!"

Hands, slicked with perspiration, slid over his chest, the coverlet, resting on his belly. Enjolras caught him by his shoulder, scrabbling for something-anything-to hold as he felt himself thrust into Marius's mouth.

Marius moved his lips to his thighs and the blond moaned in both relief and disappointment.

"Please..."

The blond seized him by the arms, pulling him up to meet his lips, limbs trembling. A moment later, Marius buried his face in Enjolras' neck, legs hooking around his hips-

"Enjol...!"

Fire flooded his brain as he clung to the boy, nails digging into damp flesh.

"Go on," He breathed into Marius's hair, hips working furiously. "It's all right, whatever you want... scream..."

Throwing his head back, Enjolras barely registered a creak- and then he saw the shadow fall across the floor. Some kind of nausea filled his belly, but he was too far gone to stop. His eyes met those of the figure in the doorway and then he saw nothing- nothing existed for several long moments but his scream and Marius gasping against him-

Done. Nothing but their labored breath.

"Marius?"

The boy looked over at Enjolras, who caressed his cheek, leaning in for a surprisingly gentle kiss.

"I love you." He turned to his father in the doorway, who'd gone white with revulsion and shock. Marius stiffened, grabbing Enjolras' hand. "Well?"

"You..."

Only one word, and his father strode into the bedroom, seizing his son by his hair, belting him across the face. The boy went down, falling against the mattress.

Again, and this time Marius could see his head snap back, the blood rushing under the skin... strange, how he barely resisted...

"...We take you in after everything you've done and this is how you repay us?! No, this is a Catholic household, I won't have it!"

Enjolras looked up from where he was slumped over the mattress, blood seeping from his lower lip, eyes blazing from the humiliation. Another blow, and this time he cried out. The strangled sound sent Marius into tears.

"Firmin?"

With a swish of taffeta, another figure appeared in the doorway.

"Firmin, what's-" The Baroness noticed the two boys on the bed, son bruised and bleeding. With a touch of-was that fear in her voice?- "What-what are you doing?"

Marius felt another hiccupping sob rise in his throat, and he reached out a hand towards his lover, who lay on the pillows, unbridled terror flaring in his eyes-

"Don't you dare."

Marius faltered, eventually drawing back as the Baron glared at his son.

"Get out. I want both of you out. Now!"

Neither moved, Marius still looking from father to son, Enjolras' eyes fixed somewhere on the ceiling.

"You have ten minutes."

The door slammed shut, the sudden noise seeming to jar Enjolras awake as he made a sudden move for the edge of the bed, retching violently.

"Enjolras!"

Hands found hands as Marius helped the blond into a sitting position, both of them shaking uncontrollably. Tears slipped down Enjolras' cheeks, letting them fall and Marius had the sense not to mention them.

Several minutes later, Marius was doing up the buttons of the other boy's vest, letting his head lean on his shoulder.

"Are you all right?"

Enjolras nodded shakily, and Marius stood, leaning on the bed-side table for support as he struggled with his crutches.

"Marius?"

"Hush..."

"No, I just want to say..."

They were right in front of the door now, and Enjolras had his hand on the doorknob.

"I just want to say you're worth it."

A brush of the lips, and then somehow they were downstairs, and Enjolras was guiding his lover to the front door when he stopped.

"Enjol-"

Marius stopped short as he caught sight of what Enjolras was staring at. The door to the dining room had been left open, revealing his mother, full, untouched wineglass in hand, staring in silence at the opposite wall. She pretended not to notice her son.

Abruptly, Enjolras started walking again, and Marius had to hurry to catch up with him.

"Are you sure you don't-"

"No." He said, with unusual fierceness. "There's nothing left for me here."

* * *

Cosette's breakfast sat like a rock in her stomach, and the blonde clenched her fists against her temples, fighting a splitting headache.

"Madame?"

A maid stood in the doorway, looking in with concern at her mistress.

"Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine." Cosette waved her off. "Just... get my cape and hat ready, I think I need some air."

"Are you sure? It's still dark out-"

"Don't question it."

The maid nodded and left the dining room as Cosette sighed.

_I should give up. I should have given up long ago. He's not coming back._ The truth stabbed at her brain.

_I just wish he'd come home. I miss him._

* * *

Enjolras had been silent the entire time as they made their way down the darkened street. Marius glanced at him occasionally.

"Are you all right?"

Enjolras sighed.

"It's nothing."

A pause.

"You couldn't have just run away, could you?"

Enjolras looked up. Marius continued.

"You had to make a statement."

The blond bit his already split lip, wincing.

"I had to show them why I had to leave. That look of shock on his face was worth it."

Marius stared at him, taking his hand.

"Worth a beating?"

Enjolras sighed.

"Just another price to pay."

The other boy looked away.

"You're still as much of a mystery as you were when I first met you." He murmured.

Another silence.

"Listen, Enjolras?"

The blond glanced at him.

"I've been thinking, maybe we ought to..."

"What?"

Marius made a half-smile.

"I could... leave Cosette... we could buy a house... live together and damn what people say..."

Enjolras laughed suddenly.

"Are you proposing to me?"

Marius grinned.

"Maybe. In a way. Yes."

Enjolras brushed his lips over the other boy's cheek.

"That sounds... perfect."

Marius folded him into an embrace, two shadowy figures against the wall.

"Aren't we still in the bourgeois district?" Enjolras murmured.

"I think the bourgeois can stand to be a little scandalized, don't you?"

Enjolras broke away for a moment, gingerly running the pad of his finger over the bruise on his jaw.

"I think they've been scandalized enough tonight."

"Hush." Marius pressed his finger to Enjolras's lips. "It's over. And soon-tonight, we'll be back in the Musain and we can-"

"Marius?"

Both men looked up at the sound of footsteps on cobbles, of silk swishing through the early morning-

"Marius! I hoped I'd find you..."

Cosette reached them and her smile shattered as she noticed Enjolras, still in Marius' arms, lips red from kissing.

"Marius... why do you..." She bit her lip. "Oh God, it's just not..."

She rounded on Enjolras, tears glimmering in her eyes.

"I hate you!"

Marius' hand landed on her shoulder and was shaken off.

"Cosette!"

"I'm losing him because of you!"

"You have lost nothing, Madame." Enjolras said quietly.

"We could have been happy if you hadn't ruined everything!"

"And if you believe that, then you truly are a fool!"

Marius stepped back, feeling the hate crackling in the air between the two.

The girl's eyes were brimming.

"You've destroyed everything we had!"

She launched herself at Enjolras, gripping his lapels in a fit of anger. The boy caught her wrists.

"Control yourself, Madame."

"What's that? Control myself? Didn't you hate me like this when you found out Marius loved me?! Didn't you just want to die?!"

Enjolras' eyes blazed.

_Pounding his fist into the pillow, screaming his anger into the fabric, as if screaming could make it all go away, could make it all better..._

He shoved her away roughly.

"I buried that long ago." he snarled. "Don't bring it back up."

"Didn't you?" Cosette pressed. "Or did you ever even love him?!"

"Love him? _Love him?!_ He's everything to me! I held his hand through all we've been through! I have nothing left because I gave it all to him! _Nothing_." he repeated. "You don't love until you suffer!"

There was a distant sound of shutters opening as people peered out windows to see what all the commotion was about. None of this registered with Marius, who stared in shock at his lover.

"Do you think that will be erased by some silly little girl who thinks she knows what pain is? Do you honestly think that, mademoiselle?"

Cosette burst into tears, turning from Enjolras, and Marius put a hand on her now-unresisting shoulder, pulling her away.

"Cosette... I'm..." Oh God, how could he say this to her now? "I'm going with... with Enjolras." Her tears stopped and she looked up at him with shocked, horrified eyes.

"Marius? But-but what about me?"

Marius sighed.

"Go to my grandfather. The address is in the book on my desk. Tell him what happened, I don't care. He'll take you in, he adores you."

"Marius, how can you...?"

"Listen to me-just listen. Find someone. Someone who can love you like I never could. Someone perfect, someone handsome." The tears came back. "And when you do, I want you to forget me. Forget all the pain I caused you. I never meant to hurt you."

"God, Marius, don't do this to me!"

"Hush." He squeezed her shoulder. "He'll be perfect, I know." He glanced back at Enjolras, who stared resolutely at the cobbled street. "I'm sorry I couldn't love you."

He hired a cab in the end, sending Cosette back to the Rue Plumet.

Enjolras joined him as he watched the carriage drive into the distance, gently taking Marius's hand. He looked up.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

_Blood. Choking on-no, drowning-in blood. Marius' head slammed against something hard-wood, he knew somehow. Wood. Wood meant chairs and tables and barrels, which meant they were at the barricade. And if they were at the barricade... they were all going to die..._

_Gunfire and someone clad in red slams into the ground, bleeding from his throat, and Enjolras' eyes open as he screams-_

_"God, Marius, don't do this to me!"_

"Enjolras!"

Marius' eyes flew open, his body shaking horribly. The boy glanced beside him, at the blond who was still slept fitfully, brow furrowed, tossing his head from time to time.

"Enjolras..."

The blond woke as a trembling hand shook him gently.

"Marius? What's-"

"Dreams."

The boy didn't bother saying anything, simply gathering Marius into his arms, pressing his lips into his hair, simply glad to be close. Their hands entwined, fingers playing lazily with each other.

"I'm here. I'm right here, love."

Silence.

"Enjolras?"

"Hmm?"

"Did I..." Marius sighed. "How badly do you think I hurt her?"

Enjolras swallowed.

"I doubt she'll ever truly forgive you for it. But she'll be happier then she ever would have been with you."

"And I'm happier with you then I ever would have been with her..." Marius nestled against his lover's body. "Good night..."

"You only just woke up!" Enjolras teased. "Good night then, Marius."

"I love..." His eyes slid shut.

* * *

**Thoughts?**


	10. Epilogue

**A/N: Ladies and Gentlemen, what a ride it has been. Enjoy. **

* * *

One_ month later-_

Fire crackled at the hearth of the fireplace, throwing shadows across Marius' face as he read out loud.

"...Does it follow from this that the general will is exterminated or corrupted? Not at all: it is always constant, unalterable and pure; but it is subordinated to other wills which encroach upon its sphere..."

They were sitting on the chaise longue together, Rousseau's "Social Contract" open between them, taking turns reading. It had become a evening custom with them.

Enjolras put his arm around Marius' shoulders and the boy looked up from the book, grinning.

"Shall we stop there for tonight?" He asked. Marius nodded.

"We might as well-" He laughed as Enjolras pulled him even closer, their lips meeting, Marius threading his fingers through the other boy's hair. Eventually, they broke apart, Enjolras settling against the arm of the chaise, Marius lying against his chest.

"How does your leg feel?"

Marius shrugged as his lover wrapped his arms around him.

"I barely notice it now. I can feel it when I dream sometimes, and afterwards, but it's nothing like before."

"Good." Enjolras said.

There was a pause and then the blond laughed suddenly.

"What?" Marius turned to look at him curiously.

"Just... when I woke up this morning... it felt like the first time. _This_ feels like the first time. Do you remember? We were in the dormitory, and I'd woken up first and for the longest time I couldn't understand why you were in bed with me! And then you woke up and kissed me and... nothing mattered anymore."

"Except us." Marius added.

"Except us."

Silence fell for a moment and then Enjolras gently maneuvered out from underneath his lover. Taking the hand that was offered, Marius pulled himself off the chaise longue, the blond catching him, letting him lean on his shoulder.

Marius spoke suddenly as they made their way slowly up the stairs.

"Enjolras?"

"Hm?"

"Do you ever... do you ever regret this? You were hurt so much just to keep this alive and I just wondered... do you have any regrets?"

Enjolras stared at him, trailing a finger over the boy's cheek.

"None." He murmured. "And you? Do you ever regret meeting me?"

_"I'm Enjolras, by the way."_

_"Let's forget about what the world thinks."_

_"I know I love you. I know I can't take my eyes off you. I know I'd die for you."_

_"They can't stop this from being real. Because this _is_ real. And they can't erase that."_

Marius smiled, leaning forward, lips over Enjolras' ear.

"Never."


End file.
